You entered Henri's office, carrying a tray of hot tea. He was preoccupied with the messages they'd received from the government about new execution orders.

He looked exhausted. You know how much he hated all of this. He was exhausted from his work, not just from the effort, but from the mental exhaustion.

When you placed the tray in front of him, Henri lifted his head, giving you a small smile and warm eyes, his face still looking tired.